1968
by NoseyHeiffer
Summary: While on vacation to New York, Nick and Janette come to the rescue of a very special six year old. Rate T for innuedo and to be on the safe side.


"1968"

by Elise

"Smile, Janette," Nick urged. "We're on vacation. Let's have some fun."

Janette rolled her blue eyes at her brother. A sour expression marred her lovely features. "Nicolas, when you asked me to go to New York with you for a holiday, I had no idea we would be riding in this monstrosity."

A quick frown passed Nick's face. "My car isn't a monstrosity," he argued. "It's a 1962 Cadillac, top of the line."

"Well, it might have been top of the line," she conceded, "but it is six years old and out of date. If you wished to drive a Cadillac, why haven't you bought a 1968 model? You can certainly afford it."

"I like this year model," he insisted. "There is something special about 1962. I don't know what it is or why it is so, but 1962 was the best year for me ever. I want to keep this car as a souvenir of that year."

"You should get rid of it and buy one of those dashing little Corvettes."

"Those prissy little things?" Nick scoffed. "They can't begin touch my Cadillac for trunk space."

"But your Cadillac is ugly," she persisted. "Why we simply could not have flown in."

He cut her off. "All right, Janette, let's not argue."

They sat in silence while Nick skillfully changed lanes and maneuvered the large car through the heavy evening traffic. Janette filed her nails and watched the passing of the city lights.

Nick's right hand slowly crept across the seat to settle on Janette's knee. "Would you like to go sight-seeing first or to our hotel?" he asked her. A wicked grin spread across his face. He flashed his most charming grin.

"Nicolas," she purred, "we had best have an understanding first, non?"

"What kind of an understanding?" he asked suspiciously. Slowly, he withdrew his hand.

"We are not in love, mon frere," she said forcefully. "You do not love me, and I do not love you. There are no promises between us." Her voice changed to a teasing tone. "We can be lovers any time you wish, though." Playfully, she pulled at his earlobe.

He swatted away her hand. "I do love you, Janette," Nick insisted.

"No, mon cher," Janette replied lightly. "You care for me. You need me. You desire me. That is all. Your heart, your soul does not match mine. They never have," she explained. "Just as mine have never been the twin of yours."

A longer silence fell between them. He knew she spoke the truth. He'd felt it was so for years, but he did not want to admit it. He could grudgingly accept his choice to become a vampire if he had made it based on love for her, but if he had chosen the dark only out of lust...

He clenched his teeth and ground his molars. How could he face the truth that he had committed this unpardonable sin not out of a pure emotion like love, but simply from the basest desires of the flesh? He had been so lonely, so terribly alone. He was still alone, and now he would have to finally face that truth by himself. "You make it sound like I'm using you," he whispered.

Janette laughed, a delightful silvery sound. "But you are! Just as I am using you."

When she noted that his darkened scowl had not dissipated, she slid over next to him and wound her arms around him. "Nicolas, listen to me. What do you know of reincarnation?"

He gave her a skeptical glance. "That a soul never dies, but upon the body's death, it returns again to earth. That each soul must learn an important lesson in each life, and when it has finally absorbed all of the lessons, it is allowed to pass on to heaven."

"Yes," she agreed, "that is part of it."

"I do not believe that, Janette."

"You would not," she said fondly. "After eight hundred years, you are still too much of the Crusader." She tousled his fair curls. "There is also a belief that in the beginning each soul was halved. Part of what we are supposed to do while on the earth is to locate our missing half. When we have found that missing part of our soul, then we have found the kind of love that lasts forever."

"And that is our one true love?" he asked. He wanted to believe this.

He needed something to believe in, now more than ever.

"Of course," she soothed him. "We must simply pay attention to those things that call to us, those intuitive clues that help guide us. We must pay attention to those around us, and when we do find that special person, we must take the necessary steps to join with them." She could feel his need to believe. "In the meantime," she whispered coolly in his ear, "there is no reason why we cannot pleasure ourselves together." Her lips traced tiny, cool kisses along his neck while her hands slid upwards along his thigh.

"Janette!" Nick yelled. "Watch out!"

Jerking the steering wheel hard to the right, Nick prevented a head-on collision. An on-coming car, a station wagon, suddenly came barreling across their lane of traffic. It swerved out of control, barely avoiding several cars and trucks before careening over the embankment.

Nick followed the station wagon off the shoulder of the highway, slammed on brakes, and leapt from the Caddy. "Come on, Janette," he urged. "They may be hurt."

Because of their vampiric abilities, Nick and Janette were the first ones on the scene. All above them on the highway, cars were still screeching and sliding to a halt. The station wagon had come to rest upside down at the bottom of the hill. The vehicle was a total loss. It was no more than a twisted lump of scrap metal. The wheels were still spinning, and the dust from the crash still clouded the air.

As the choking dust settled, the vampire couple could see a body lying half in and half out of the passenger side window. A young woman of perhaps twenty-eight lay unnaturally still. Her soft brown curls had come lose from its complicated coiffure, and her neck twisted at an obscene angle. There was no doubt she was dead.

"I smell gasoline," Janette called out in fear. "Nicolas, come away now. If the car explodes, the fire will kill us both."

"She was not the driver, Janette," he called back to her. "There must be another still in the car." Janette barely heard his words as Nick sped around the car and dropped onto the ground at the driver's side.

The blood spattered driver groaned into consciousness. "Fell asleep," he moaned.

"Don't try to talk, sir." Nick spoke calmly. "Help is on the way. Your car is leaking gasoline, and I fear it may combust. Let me get you out."

"No!" the man ordered. "Get my children first." Blood flecked his lips, and Nick could tell he was bleeding on the inside. The man would most likely die.

Nick nodded grimly. Quickly, he scrambled along the ground, seeking an entrance to the back seat. He slid inside the vehicle as far as possible and could see two small children huddled together. "It's okay," he said, projecting more confidence than he felt. "I'll get you out." Cautiously and gently, Nick reached for the closet child, a boy, and pulled him from the wreckage.

"Janette!" he roared. "Take the boy! There is another child within!"

Her blue eyes huge with terror, Janette ran forward to grab the boy from Nick. She clutched the small child - he could be no more than two years old - to her breast and raced up the embankment towards the Caddy.

The sirens of emergency vehicles sounded their banshee-like wails, but Nick did not halt. His only concern was for the second child still trapped inside the car with the bodies of her parents. Again, he dropped to his knees and half-swum into the car. The smell of gasoline was overpowering.

The little girl had climbed closer to her father, who was now dead. Tears filled her sad hazel eyes. "Mama and Daddy are hurt," she told him.

"Yes, dear," he answered. "You must come now. We haven't much time."

She shook her head, dirty curls swayed in a tangled brown mass. "They need me. I can help them."

Nick's heart broke. How could this innocent child ever understand death? He had been around it, been a part of it for the past eight hundred years, and still he did not understand it. Perhaps he could protect her. He should at least try.

Locking onto the rhythm of her tiny heart, Nick stared intently into her eyes. "You must come with me now," the vampire ordered.

She blinked. "Maybe I don't want to!" she yelled.

Nick frowned. She was a resistor. "I'm sorry," he told her. "We don't have time to discuss this." Lightning fast vampire reflexes struck out, and Nick pulled the girl to him. She fought him for all she was worth, but he held her fast.

Barely had they exited the car, when the gasoline finally found its way to the hot engine and the car exploded. Flames erupted, shooting into the sky in a mockery of a fireworks display. Shards of glass flew, and the heat was searing. Worst was the smell of the car and its roasting contents. That awful sickening stench permeated the area.

The blast had caught Nick and the girl in their attempt to flee and sent them sprawling into the high grass nearby. Knowing he could not be seriously hurt, Nick had shielded the little girl with his body. He sat up quickly and checked her over to make sure she was unhurt.

It was she, who found his hurt instead. She pointed to the piece of glass embedded in his arm. "Your arm has a boo-boo," she said softly.

Nick shrugged and pulled it out. "It's nothing," he assured her.

"Nicolas!" It was Janette.

Nick saw her and an elderly couple standing by the roadside at the top of the hill. He could see an ambulance near them. The paramedics were carefully examining the small boy. Several firefighters were rushing down the hillside, blasting the fire with water.

He waved back to Janette and slowly stood up. Nick gazed at the child before him. "Will you let me carry you to the top?" he asked, remembering the pounding she had given him earlier.

The little girl glanced back at the burned out car. Only a dripping, blackened shell remained. Her bottom lip began to tremble, but she refused to cry. Slowly, she nodded and entrusted herself to the vampire.

"We can never thank you enough," the elderly gentleman was saying. His voice was trembling and his eyes were red-rimmed with unshed tears. He clasped Janette's hand between his large paws. "My wife and I" - He indicated the elderly woman now holding the little boy. - "are visiting from Toronto. We were following our son to his home."

A police officer stepped up. "I'm sorry, sir. It seems that the boy was the only survivor," he said softly.

"Wait!" Nick called out. He strode to the top of the hill and set the little girl down. She flew into the old man's arms.

"Here now, set her down, Henry, and let the medics examine her," the man's wife insisted.

Henry set his granddaughter down and pushed her towards the waiting ambulance. Then he turned and grabbed Nick's hand, pumping it with fervor. "How can we ever repay you for saving our grandchildren?"

"You owe me no thanks," Nick told him. "And I am deeply sorry for your loss."

"But I'm okay," the small girl protested loudly.

Both Nick and Henry turned towards the sound of the little girl's voice. She stood defiant, hands on hips, chin raised, staring at the paramedics.

"So, you're a doctor now, Natasha?" the grandmother asked sarcastically. "Let them check you," she ordered the child.

The girl stuck out her bottom lip and answered loudly. "Not yet, I'm not, but one day I will be."

"Don't sass your elders, child," the grandmother reprimanded her.

"I'll need a statement from you, sir, and a name," the police officer said quietly.

"Oh, yes," Henry said. He cast another fond glance at the girl, a grim smile on his lips. "That one is head-strong like her father, like me," he muttered with pride. "If she says she'll be a doctor, you'd better believe she will be a doctor," he told Nick.

"Your name?" the officer prompted.

"Lambert. Henry Lambert."

"Nicolas?" Janette's voice sounded softly in his ear. She tugged at his arm, pulling him away. "Let us go while there is still confusion."

Automatically, Nick followed Janette to the Caddy, but he never took his eyes off the little girl. "Janette," he asked as he helped her into the car, "do you think she will be all right?"

"The little girl?"

Nick started the engine and slipped the Caddy into gear. "Yes, I tried to hypnotize her so she would not be traumatized by this, but she is a resistor."

"In time, she will be fine, Nicolas," Janette answered. "She is strong-willed and kind-hearted." She sat silent for many long moments as the Caddy sped on its way to their hotel suite. "I'm sure she will be fine, Nicolas. She is strong like you."

Shocked, her brother asked, "Like me?"

"Yes," Janette replied. She tapped the nail of her index finger against her teeth. An odd, puzzled frown appeared on her face. "Yes, I do not know how, but she reminds me of you."

Nick gave his sister a singularly dark look of suspicion.

It would not do to have him relapse into that brooding guilt again.

"Smile, Nicolas," Janette urged. "We're on vacation. Let's have some fun."

The end


End file.
